Obsession
by Captain Singsong
Summary: "Last thing he remembered was having a drink with Sammy.  Now Dean was blindfolded, arms shackled above his head. His feet were just above the ground - if he pointed his toes, he could almost touch the floor. And he was naked. What the hell?" Wincest
1. Chapter 1

Dean rose to the surface of consciousness quickly. The last thing he remembered was laughing with Sammy and taking a gulp of his beer.

Now, he was blindfolded, arms shackled above his head. His feet were just above the ground - if he pointed his toes, he could almost touch the floor. And he was naked. What the hell?

Okay. So he was maybe panicking a bit. He was a hunter, he wasn't used to having his senses impaired. Sure, he'd been tied up before, blindfolded, slammed against walls, beaten up by women (in his defence they were possessed or not human.) But he never got used to this. He would just have to rely on Sam or Bobby to help him. Maybe he'd find out who his kidnapper was if he just waited long enough and used his ears.

He heard a shuffling from somewhere to his left. Raising his head, (it wouldn't help, he _was _blindfolded) he turned in the direction of the sound.

"Hello?" he rasped. "Look man, you should just let me go. Cause my brother's gonna find you and he'll KICK YOUR FUCKING HEAD IN."

A chuckle. "Don't think I can physically kick my own head Dean."

"Sam? What's going on? Untie me dude!" Another chuckle - it sounded vaguely sinister if he was completely honest - something he thought he'd never say about his baby brother.

"Don't worry Dean. I'll let you go. Eventually." Sam's voice was like dark chocolate, seductive. Yet again something he never thought he'd associate with his brother.

He didn't want to think of Sam like that, there were some things brothers didn't talk about. Well. Sam didn't talk about. When Dean got drunk he was known to start talking about conquests. Maybe act some stuff out. Sometimes using Sam as willing participant. But they didn't talk about that.

"Sam? What the hell? Tell me what's going on?"

"I waited Dean." What was he talking about?

"Waited for what?"

"For you to realise. I got you drunk, we kissed. I thought that was it, that we'd finally be together! But then, the next morning, you just pretended you couldn't remember anything. I waited Dean! I've wanted you since I was a teenager!"

"Sammy, what are you talking about? Kissing? We're brothers!"

"Don't pretend you don't remember Dean. I can tell when you're lying."

Sam's voice had travelled now - it was coming from behind where Dean was suspended. He could practically feel the heat radiating off his brother.

Okay, so he did remember. That kiss with Sam had been incredible. But it was also incest. It was _wrong. _It didn't mean anything, they'd been drunk, needing comfort. They'd turned to the closest warm body available.

But… The memory of Sam's warm lips, the needy sounds that came from him when Dean had traced his tongue along the seam of Sam's lips…

And yes, there'd been a mark on Sam's neck, a dark purple bruise that Dean had worked on whilst Sam had gripped his shoulders and moaned, but that meant NOTHING.

God, if his father had still been alive, Dean most definitely would not have been.

Sam had wrapped his arms around Dean, his moist breath puffing against his neck. Dean restrained himself from leaning back into the touch.

"Sam. What are you doing? Just let me go, we can pretend nothing happened." Sam's arms tightened around him before stepping back.

"That's just it Dean" he snapped in a clipped voice. "I don't want to forget. I know you haven't forgotten that kiss." His voice turned low and husky. "How hard you got just from kissing me. How every time you saw that mark on my neck you'd get turned on.

Dean bit back a groan. "Sam…"

"Ssh Dean, just relax, let me do all the work." Dean felt Sam wrapping his massive hand around his - O_h God,_ already half hard - cock.

His head fell back, supported by Sam's shoulder. Sam was muttering nonsense words into Dean's neck as he worked his hand along Dean's length, twisting his hand just under the head. How the hell did Sam know how to get Dean so close to the edge so quickly?

Actually, that was a line of thought Dean didn't need right now. Sam's obsessiveness was freaking him out a little, he needed to get back in the moment, where he was currently getting a fairly awesome hand job.

Sam licked Dean's sweat sheened neck, groaning low in the back of his throat.

"Want you Dean. Want you to fuck me."

Dean jerked in Sam's grip.

"Jesus, Sammy! What's the matter with you? Why are you doing this? Let me go!"

"Can't, Dean." Sam was panting in his ear, voice shaky as he spoke. "Can't let you go until you accept this, what we're doing. Till you're ready to love me."

"I do love you Sam! But this, it's wrong! We can't do it!"

"Your dick seems to like it just fine." Sam gave an especially brutal tug to emphasise. And he was right. Dean was hard, harder than he'd been in a long time.

"Besides Dean, we've always been on the outskirts. No one has to know if we don't want them to."

"God Sam. How long have you been thinking about this?"

Sam huffed a laugh against Dean's ear. "A while. Since I was a teenager. First time I jerked off, it was hearing you and some slut having sex." Sam's tongue traced the shell of his ear, following it down to his neck.

"First time I fingered myself, I came without touching my cock, just because I could hear your voice in the next room." He bit down hard on Dean's neck.

And that was it. Powerless to resist, Dean came.

He could feel Sam stroking him through the aftershocks, murmuring words against his neck.

"Sammy" he groaned.

"Yeah Dean?" Sam asked lifting his head to brush against Dean's lips.

"We are so fucked up." Dean muttered, before opening his mouth and accepting Sam's kiss.

_So... What did you think? First time ever writing something remotely like sex :P I don't think I did too bad..._

_Should I keep this as a one shot? Cos I feel like it could be more. Opinions?_


	2. Chapter 2

Obsession 2

Sam kept Dean in the chains, but he did remove the blindfold.

They were still in the hotel room. Funny - Dean had expected to be in some skanky warehouse somewhere.

Sam had just shrugged when Dean had voiced this thought.

"How would I be able to make sure no-one came in?"

Every night, he'd jerk Dean off, mumbling filthy words into his neck. Every night, Dean came. It was almost Pavlovian. When Sam entered - always carrying some kind of favourite food of Dean's, Dean was almost always already half mast. He couldn't stop himself. Now they'd entered this stupid fucked up relationship where his brother - who was also his… captor? Lover? He wasn't exactly sure- kept him locked up for fear he'd run (Not that he would. Ever.) he'd began noticing _things. _

Like Sam's stupid floppy hair. All he could think about was how he'd like to pull on it as Sam sucked him off, staring up at him with those puppy eyes.

Those big hands, grasping his face, pulling him closer for a kiss. Or wrapped around his dick as Dean fucked into him from behind…

So yeah. He had some pretty non-brotherly thoughts about his brother. In his defence, Sam had started it.

Sam was coming in now, balancing a pie in one hand, a pizza box in the other, and slamming the door behind him with his foot. He dropped the food onto the table.

"Is that pie?" Dean couldn't help himself. He loved pie. Not as much as this weird thing he had going on with his brother, but pretty close.

Sam grinned. "Yeah. But first, I'm gonna suck your cock."

Dean inhaled sharply. "Sam…"

Sam dropped to his knees, still grinning innocently. He grasped Dean's dick with one hand, leaning forward, and swallowing Dean down. Dean's hips thrust forward involuntarily. Sam gagged, backing up.

"Dude! What the hell?" he coughed, glaring up at his big brother.

"Well how was I supposed to know you'd do that? I'm only human Sam! What'd you expect?"

Sam glared at him, still coughing. He remained silent.

"Wait… Is this the first time you've ever given someone a blow job?"

Sam shrugged miserably, instantly reverting back to whiny little brother of yesteryear, who went all sullen and refused to talk whenever Dean teased him.

Dean couldn't help himself. He knew he shouldn't, knew he'd probably get a serious case of blue balls for it, but this was worth it.

He laughed. A lot.

Sam glared at him, arms folded, mouth pouting. When Dean's laugh had calmed down, only the occasional snigger forcing its way past his lips, Sam stood up and headed towards the bathroom.

"Aww Sammy, where you goin? Come on Sam, don't be like that! I just thought…"

The door slammed shut behind his bitchy brother. Well how was Dean supposed to know it was the first bj his brother had ever given?

Clearly, he'd been spending too much time with his right hand (and casa erotica) and not enough experimenting with other people. What else was college for?

Besides which, his brother had been so confident, so fluid. Dean had expected him to be an expert.

Confidence had a lot to answer for in Dean's mind. If his brother had even hesitated in front of him, or maybe _not attempted to deep throat him in his first experience of a cock in his mouth, _Dean would have played it a bit more cool.

As it was, his brother was in a strop and Dean was hard, alone and not even able to jerk off. And, his stomach reminded him, he was hungry dammit!

This was not the way he'd expected the evening to go.

This was not the way Sam had expected the evening to go. Dean was not supposed to realise that Sam had never done _that_ before.

Okay, so maybe Sam had got a bit overzealous, with the whole acting like Dean's dick was a lollipop thing. But, that was how those woman in porn did it.

And he knew porn wasn't real life, but he'd hoped…

Never mind what he'd hoped. It wasn't like he'd expected Dean to gasp out his undying love in the throes of passion or anything…

But he really _really_ wanted Dean to fuck him. Until he was able to release his brother - when he knew he'd always love him, never leave him, they'd stay together forever, happy - he was reduced to rubbing one out in front of Dean.

His brother had stared, wide eyed, the first time Sam had done it. Upon Sam's climax, Dean had groaned and he had noticed Dean's spent cock twitching where it lay.

So he knew his brother loved him. He knew his brother was sexually attracted to him, but was it enough? Was it anything like the all encompassing love Sam felt for his brother? The constant urge to just have him near, to touch him, stroke him, _love him_.

He'd gone to Stanford when his touches had started getting too much, turning casual brushes into caresses. His dad had noticed, Sam knew he had. He hadn't said anything, but Sam could see it in his eyes.

John'd probably have blamed the both of them - even though Dean had nothing to do with Sam's sick fantasies.

When Dean had returned, persuading him away from _safe _with just a few short words and a promise, he'd barely thought about it, agreeing before he knew it.

He'd left Jess, beautiful Jess with her long blonde hair, who was just as messed up as Sam. And when he'd left her, she'd burned.

He would never forgive himself for that.

Eventually, his pain had subsided slightly. He'd began noticing his brother again. The disgust he'd felt with himself when his buried feelings returned had been enough to throw him towards any warm willing body.

With a guy, he'd always topped. He was saving himself for his brother. He let others jerk him off, even reciprocated, but he'd never given a blow job. Sam had just assumed he'd know what to do when it came to it.

He groaned, burying his head in his hands. He was still hard.

With a few swift strokes of his hand he was coming, hard and fast - not anything like he'd felt when he could feel Dean's green eyes burning into him, just a sense of relief.

Sam heard a groan coming from the room next door, then a shout of triumph. Moving quickly, he pulled open the door, dreading what he'd see.

Dean stood in the middle of the room freed from the ceiling, hands still manacled together.

"Hey Sammy."

You asked, I obliged :)

Nothing for either of my stories for a few days, I'm going to DUBLIN bitches!


	3. Chapter 3

**Obsession 3**

Dean was standing in the middle of the room, naked, hard and staring straight at Sam.

"_Dean._"

He looked at his little brother. Sam looked rode hard and put away wet, sweaty and flushed, hair flicking out at the ends, hazel eyes wide and full of lust. He was still fully clothed, but his jeans were unbuttoned, and hung off his hips.

Dean wanted to pull them off with his _teeth. _He wanted to lick every inch of Sam, slow, but thorough. He wanted to _debauch_ his brother.

Oh god. His _brother. _The snot nosed kid he'd watched grow up. He was wrong, fucked up. He couldn't let this happen. What would his father say? What would Bobby say? Hell, what would anyone he'd ever known say?

All Dean had to do was run, he _wanted_ to run. Find a bar, a warm body - maybe try and deal with the fact that his brother had _tied him up and held him hostage. _

And Dean was far less freaked out than he should have been. He should have been running for the door, not entertaining the thought of throwing his brother onto the bed and taking him right there, licking Sam's collarbone, and other places, watching as he threw his head back, eyes half closed in ecstasy as Dean prepped him one finger at a time. Sam would complain, claiming to be ready, but Dean would take his time anyway, enjoying the view too much to give it up, Dean fucking into Sam slow, and easy, Sam on his back, long legs wrapped around Dean's waist. They'd exchange kisses, Sam would lose coherency and the ability to move his mouth and wind up just panting into Dean's mouth, Dean whispering _I love you _and _You didn't have to tie me up to make me see._ And Sam would nod, and moan and gasp, and it wouldn't be fucking. It would be making love.

Then, after, when they were sweaty and sated, he'd show his brother how to really give a blow job, teasing him back to full hardness before a second round, Dean setting a brutal pace, while Sam

clung to him. Dean would nail his prostate dead on every time. He would shake the bed, he would _break _the bed, he would watch Sam's face as Dean reached down, wrapping one hand around Sam's dick as he moved. Sam would be loud, judging from the breathy moans he gave jerking himself off earlier.

Dean would make him _scream_.

He decided that he needed clothes before he did something he might regret. He grasped a pair of underpants - his bag was where he had left it all those nights before - when his brother had _drugged_ him and jerked him off. It as no mean feat getting dressed with a hard on, but he managed. Sam had just stood and watched, wringing his hands and opening his mouth - but no words were coming out.

Sammy didn't know what he was doing. Of course, Dean had tried Christo, he'd tried the vague exorcisms he'd pulled from the deep dark recesses of his memory. Nothing had any effect.

He knew Sammy had the anti-possession tattoo, but maybe it hadn't been working. Or those fuckers had found a way to subvert it. There was no way Sam could want him - it just wasn't possible.

Sam wanted normal, _safe. _He wouldn't get it in this relationship.

But maybe… No. It was impossible.

But Sam had instigated this, talked about how much he wanted his brother time and again. Hell, he'd… well _they'd_ done stuff Dean had never heard of brothers doing before.

And the way Sam's eyes were flickering to his cock, how he had licked his lips… Well, Dean was never one to pass up a challenge.

"So, Sammy. How long exactly had you been planning on keeping me tied up? Cos, you know. I wasn't very comfortable I have to be honest. I mean, look."

Dean held out his wrists - bruised and battered from where he had pulled at them trying to get free.

Sam had plastered himself against the wall.

"Dean," he babbled, " I didn't mean to hurt you, please believe me that's the last thing I would have done, I love you De, please don't leave me, I know I was stupid, it won't happen again, just _please." _

Dean reeled. Sammy thought he was going to leave? A flash of annoyance - after everything they'd been through? He brushed off the irritation - he was more worried. Why was Sam acting like this? He was so _needy. _Sam was still stammering platitudes and ridiculous pleas.

Dean needed to shut him up. He stalked forward, Sam pushing himself back against the wall, flinching away, still muttering.

Dean stopped in front of him. Sam avoided his gaze. He grasped his little, taller, brothers chin and forced him to look straight at him.

Sam's eyes were full of tears. Dean's heart caught. He never wanted to be the source of his brother's tears.

He leant forward, slowly so Sam wouldn't mistake what he was doing. Softly, he pressed his lips to his little brothers forehead.

Sam gaped at him.

"I know you're into some kinky stuff Sam, but tying me up was a little too hardcore - even for me. Give me some time."

He grinned at his brother, before turning and walking out the door in measured steps. His legs were twitching with the effort not to run as fast as he could.

He shut the door behind him calmly, before collapsing on the seat of his baby. He glanced at his hands. They were red and raw from the handcuffs, and where he'd put his whole weight on them in an attempt to break them - it had worked, but it'd take a while for them to heal.

More importantly, they wouldn't stop shaking.


End file.
